


Fate/Grand Order Character Writings

by GreyDenizen



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Character Study, Interlude Spoilers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21774991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyDenizen/pseuds/GreyDenizen
Summary: Writings that are akin to character studies of Servants from Fate/Grand Order.Will be updated at a leisurely pace.
Kudos: 9





	1. Charles-Henri Sanson

Evil. What a horrid concept. Taking morality and casting it aside, only to do as one pleased for their own pleasure. Whether it involved thievery, destruction, murder... if it was an act that punished the populace, it was an act that would be punished in turn. It was almost poetic.

Humans are creatures of evil. This is an inescapable fact. No matter how admirable the person, evil lurks within their heart. No matter how many good deeds they perform, a sin can be committed at any instant. There was only one soul he has seen who defied this law of humanity. Pure, unadulterated love filled her to the core, no matter the circumstances. How her heart refused to seek evil, he could not understand. He never would. No matter how many times she was left alone, no matter how many times she was betrayed, no matter how many times she was at risk, she faced it all with a smile so brilliant even God himself would be charmed. But eventually that face full of life met an end, just as all life did—whether by nature or by force.

* * *

He could vividly remember witnessing an execution for the first time. It was bloody. Unlike what he thought, it was not a clean process. Much to his horror, the blade entered the nape, only to be halted, leaving the condemned suffering. The sight traumatized him even past his death. It wasn’t until the third swing the head rolled.

And then he was introduced to the guillotine. At first, he was apprehensive. Why risk making a potentially agonizing process even more so? He felt no pleasure in beheading the guilty. However, after being informed of its nature, he was ecstatic; it was a device used to grant a painless death to the damned.

However, he still felt uncertainty well up within him. Doubt. What ensured this contraption would perform as advertised? He had no way of knowing: he knew nothing of machinery. His passion lied in life and death. He was pleased to know that the creators had test subjects at the ready. Thankfully they weren’t human.

He carefully observed as the blade hung above the bale of straw, not wanting to miss a single detail. By his word, it was dropped, bisecting the straw perfectly. However, he was not satisfied. 

After the fifth bisection, all being scrutinized by his watchful eye, the sheep came next. The blade cut cleanly through the flesh, leaving the animal headless and limp. Just as the straw was, the sheep were sent to the guillotine consecutively. The results remained the same.

Finally, the last subjects were to be used. Unlike sheep or bales of straw, these were almost identical to a living, breathing human. 

In fact, there was only one distinction between the two.

A corpse was laid below the suspended blade, neck in place. Although his face didn’t know it, he was growing more excited for every second that passed. Time slowed as he signaled for the blade to fall. The rope holding the blade was released. 

The blade fell.

* * *

Initially he was skeptical of his Master, just as he was of his previous. Would they be merciful and just? Or would they commit vile deeds to those around? If it is the latter, he knew there would be much discord in their relationship. 

He observed his Master with mild interest as they chatted among other Servants. Normally he would hold no interest in his Master’s personal affairs, and this time was no different. But there was one thing that drastically differentiated this Master from the rest: their goal.

Upon seeing how earnestly they sought their overwhelming task of saving the world itself, he was astonished. Even when all seemed lost, when humanity appeared to be doomed, they rose to the challenge. Even when they were beaten down mercilessly—physically, mentally, and emotionally—they got back up as if nothing happened.

They reminded him of her. Their earnestly. their positivity. their compassion. And yet, they were so different. She committed no sins, while his Master accepted evil, even carrying it out when necessary.

The evil his Master commits, which displayed itself in few instances, were for punishing evil.

The evil he commits, which displayed itself all too frequently, were for punishing evil.

Knowing these two facts, one may think he saw himself in his Master. He didn’t.

Sins towards others were committed by him because a higher authority deemed it so.

Sins towards others were committed by his Master because it was necessary. Not only for their own life, but every life out there.

That is why he admired his Master. They were the perfect judge and jury, with their Servants playing the role of executioners in their stead. Under normal circumstances, he followed his Master only out of obligation as a Servant. This time, he will follow his Master not only as a Servant, but as an executioner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing a story like this, so I'm dipping my toes in the water here. Constructed criticism is welcome.


	2. Jeanne d'arc

“What the hell was that?”

“Master, I…” Jeanne understood why he was angry. Anyone would. Nonetheless, she wouldn’t change what she did. “I was doing what was right.” This didn’t seem to console him. He opened his mouth to speak, only to let out a sigh and turn around. Jeanne watched as his figure shrunk down the corridor until they were out of sight.

* * *

“Ooh, no wonder he’s angry. I know I would be if something like that happened to me.” Tamamo Cat said, furrowing her brow. Jeanne looked at the floor in apprehension, thinking about what to do. After realizing how upset her Master was, she sought the advice of another, being unable to come up with a solution on her own. Although most might not think to approach a Berserker for advice, Jeanne thought Tamamo Cat was the best choice in this regard for two reasons. One, she trusted Cat; being roomed together meant they spent much of their off-time in each other’s company, even if it isn’t on intention. This lead to them getting to know each other quite well. Two, Cat was one the Servants closest to their Master. Perhaps this was a result of her being one of their first Servants. After deciding to consult her fellow Servant, Jeanne looked for the Berserker only to find her in the kitchen. She explained her predicament in hopes of receiving some advice, although some key details of the events that caused their Master’s foul mood were left unsaid. 

“I see…” 

“Even if what you did was the right thing, it still would’ve hurt our Master deeply if something went wrong. It’s a good thing that didn’t happen, I would’ve made sure you stayed dead if it did!” Jeanne shuddered at the tone of the canine cat’s words, but said nothing. She knew Cat was telling the truth, the Berserker would be outraged if she learned something like that happened to her Master. As would many others.

“S-Setting that aside, do you think Master will forgive me?”

“Hmm… I dunno. I don’t really know what happened after all. Maybe you should just talk to him about it! Here!” Before she knew it, a bowl of soup was shoved into the saint’s empty hands. “Take this to him, would you? Normally I would deliver it, but that Archer scolded me for leaving the kitchen unlocked after leaving, and I can’t leave this mess here, can I? And by the time I’m done the soup will get cold!” Jeanne faltered, what if her Master didn’t want to see her? Surely he was still upset? But if her assistance was needed....

“I understand. Leave it to me,” she said with a smile.

* * *

Why would she do that? 

Did she not care about her own life? 

Did she not care what anyone would think if she died? 

Did she not care what I would think if she died?

Thoughts kept invading his mind, tormenting him in his time of respite. It’s been stressful recently for the young Master, constantly gathering magical artifacts to boost his Servants’ capabilities. On top of that, having to personally look after the well-being of his Servants could be exhausting, considering how... eccentric some of their personalities are. However, what really threw a wrench in his mood was his latest battle alongside his sole Ruler Servant, Jeanne d'arc. Thankfully, knocks at his door resounded to break him away from his torment. Rising to his feet, he walked to the door and opened it. What met him was the subject of his mental misery, the saint herself.

“H-Hello, Master...”

“Hey...” The two grew silent, an air of awkwardness building up between the two. Jeanne held out the bowl of soup in her hands for the male to take.

“Tamamo Cat made you some soup. Would you like it?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” With her hands now empty, Jeanne stepped back.

“Well then, I will see you later Master.” She turned and was about to leave.

“W-wait.” She stopped and looked back at her Master, who refused to look her in the eye. “Would you like to come in? I... need to talk to you.” Her eyes slightly widened, only for her to smile and nod her head.

“Of course!”

They entered his room, with the Master walking to the desk and setting the bowl of soup on the table.

“Master, won’t it get cold? You should eat it while it’s hot.”

“No, this it important. It can wait.” She said nothing in response, understanding the importance of what they are about to talk about. He approached his bed and sat on the edge, his shoes catching his interest much more than the girl in his room. Jeanne, sensing his unease, looked at him worriedly.

“Master, are you okay?”

“I...” the young man played with his hands out of anxiety, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” Jeanne was perplexed. “What do you have to be sorry for? I was under the impression were you angry at me.”

“I am.” This didn’t ease Jeanne’s burden. “But I’m sorry. For being childish.”

“Master, I don’t understand.”

“I wasn’t hearing you out, only ignoring you. Every time you approached me I brushed you off and didn’t even acknowledge your attempt to reconcile. I was just… so upset. When you jumped onto Mephistopheles’s boat, and… acted like you didn’t care if something happened to you… it hurt. A lot.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head hanging. Jeanne could feel her heart sink seeing him like this, had her actions really affected him in such a way?

“Master, I... that wasn’t my intention.”

“Then... why?” She stayed silent for a moment, attempting to think up the words to say. She didn’t want her words to be misconstrued.

“Even if my mother and Pierre were an illusion, I still didn’t want to see them die in such a way. I know you may not understand, I do not myself at times... but even so, if I can save them, I must. My ideals compel me to.”

“But what about us? Don’t you realize how we would feel if something were to happen to you? Even if you rematerialize I still... I still don’t like seeing you get hurt. Just because you don’t die doesn’t mean you don’t feel pain, right?”

“I see...” The two stayed in silence, until Jeanne walked forward and sat next to the youth. “Master, I apologize. I didn’t realize how much my actions hurt you. I still stand by what I said, in that I believe it’s simply the right thing to do. I know you may not agree, but my ideals beg me to act in accordance. If I do not, I just couldn’t forgive myself. Does that make sense?”

“I... guess.”

“Master,” she grasped his hands in hers, gently continuing, “if it makes you feel any better, I was like this my entire life. This is how I lived my life: for the sake of others. Even during the war, I only thought about the lives of others, not my own. This is just how I am. I cannot change that, nor can you. I hope you understand.”

Silence. The saint grew anxious, slightly dipping her head down. Would her Master accept this? The clock on the wall noisily ticked, only adding to the worries forming in her head.

…

…

“I don’t know.” She looked up, confused.

“Um… what do you mean?”

“The fact that you’re willing to throw your life away so earnestly, I can’t accept that. I don’t think I ever will. ...But, I want to make sure it won’t ever come to that. I’ll train harder so that I can be strong enough to support you guys. If I can do something that has a chance of making sure nothing bad happens to you, I will. And if something bad does happen to you, I’ll put it to an end.”

She _stared_. No words were uttered, no sounds were heard. Elation welled up in her eyes as she froze, words unable to be formed.

Eventually, she mustered the words.

“Thank you, Master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne was so damn hard to write.


End file.
